The Reaper (The Phoenix Chronicles Book 2)

by R. J. Patterson

  “From what I can tell, the bullet still appears to be in his arm, but it doesn’t seem like it’s nicked any major arteries,” she said.

  “Good.”

  Hawk wheeled into the Méderi parking lot and drove up to the front door. He flagged down a nurse, and a team of doctors and nurses rushed outside to get Díaz inside for observation.

  “Detective Díaz,” one of the doctors said, “why am I seeing you again so soon?”

  “In case you weren’t aware, it’s a hazard of the job.”

  Hawk tried to keep pace with the medical staff working on Díaz as they wheeled him down the hall.

  “Go,” Díaz said to Hawk. “And you better not stop until you catch those bastards.”

  Hawk squeezed Díaz’s hand before stopping and turning to Alex. “Thanks to you, he’ll be fine. Now let’s go find Miguel Montaña.”

  Hawk and Alex returned to the front desk and inquired about Montaña.

  “Is he aware that you were coming to see him?” the nurse at the front asked in Spanish.

  Hawk shook his head. “But tell him Detective Díaz sent us.”

  She eyed him cautiously before dialing a number. “Wait over there,” she said after hanging up.

  Hawk and Alex stepped into a small waiting room area. One man had a bandage wrapped around his head that was bleeding. A pregnant woman sat in the corner and practiced a type of lamaze breathing. A little boy fought back tears as an older man shouted at him to stop crying.

  Hawk and Alex took a seat, but weren’t there long before a man with a tightly-cropped goatee appeared in the hallway. He looked at the receptionist, who then nodded at Hawk and Alex.

  They both stood.

  “Miguel Montaña?” Hawk asked.

  “Sí,” the man said. “Díaz sent you?”

  Hawk scanned the room again. “Can we talk somewhere more private?”

  Montaña led them down a corridor and into a small office. Hawk and Alex introduced themselves and briefed Montaña on what was happening.

  “So you need to get out of here?” Montaña asked.

  “Yes, and without being seen,” Alex said.

  Montaña handed them a pair of coveralls and two baseball caps. “Put these on over your clothes and wear these hats. Then, follow me.”

  Montaña poked his head out the door and darted back inside.

  “What is it?” Hawk asked.

  “The cartel is here. They followed you.”

  “Can you get us out?” Alex asked.

  “Just keep your head down and follow my lead,” Montaña said.

  He led them into the hallway and instructed them to grab a nearby gurney. The trio pushed it along the corridor and through swinging double doors. They careened into one of the cartel soldiers running in the opposite direction.

  Montaña apologized and the man waved him off before running past them.

  Upon exiting the hospital, they found themselves in a loading dock. Montaña nodded at an ambulance nearby and directed them to pile in the back. Moments later, they roared out of the hospital parking lot with the siren blaring.

  “That was close,” Hawk said.

  “If those men had recognized you, they would’ve shot you on the spot,” Montaña said. “It was far closer than you realized.”

  Montaña sped toward the train station. Once there, he went around to a service entrance and told them to ditch their coveralls in a dumpster. He told them which train to take to get back to their hotel, handed them his backpack, and wished them good luck.

  Hawk and Alex thanked Montaña before following his instructions.

  “Still got the key?” Alex asked.

  Hawk nodded and held it up. “We better hurry.”

  Working quickly, Hawk and Alex found Diana Lorado’s secret locker. When they opened it, both their eyes widened. Contained inside were all the elements of a high-level operative, not a floozy trying to cozy up for the cartel. She had several types of currency, handguns, multiple passports under different aliases, and two burner phones.

  “Maybe we don’t know who Diana Lorado really is,” Alex said.

  “Let’s go before anyone sees us,” Hawk said. “We can sift through all this at the hotel.”

  They grabbed the passports, phones and some of the money, stuffing it into the backpack Montaña had given them. Then they bought a train ticket and headed back to their hotel.

  * * *

  WHEN THEY ARRIVED at their hotel about an hour later, Hawk and Alex wasted no time in sorting through all the data. Alex hooked up the burner phones to her computer and extrapolated the data. Hawk researched the aliases in the U.S. intelligence database. After an hour, they had nothing. All of the text messages were written in code.

  Alex called the Magnum Group headquarters to see if she could get more information. She was transferred to Mia, who sounded chipper.

  “Mia, I’ve run into a road block,” Alex said, “and I’m hoping you can help me.”

  “I can do a lot of things, but hacking a grid will take some time,” Mia said.

  “Not a literal roadblock, but a figurative one,” Alex said.

  “Why didn’t you say so in the first place? What kind of help do you need exactly?”

  “Can you give me the dates the DEA agents were found murdered?” Alex asked.

  Mia rattled off the information for Alex, who thanked her before hanging up.

  “What are you doing?” Hawk asked.

  “This code would take me weeks to crack, so I thought I’d see if I could create a key using the information we suspect she sent.”

  “And if it doesn’t work?”

  “Oh, it’s going to work,” she said. “At least, we’ll find out soon enough. Whichever one I use to create a key, I can test it out on the others. If they all match up, we’re good.”

  Alex started analyzing the names and found one that paired well with the date of the death as well as the number of letters in the dead agent’s name. “I think I’ve got it,” Alex proclaimed triumphantly.

  Hawk hustled over to see what she’d put together. “Good work, honey. Now, what does this tell us?”

  “Nothing we didn’t necessarily already know,” she said. “But I think it’s safe to say that Diana Lorado was far more than some cartel lackey, passing secrets on from the ambassador to the drug lords.”

  “I think this proves that theory and settles it,” Hawk said. “However, we still don’t know who else was involved. And I don’t want to leave until we can prove that definitively.”

  Alex shook her head. “No, Hawk, we’ve got to get out of here. Think about John Daniel. We need to get back for him, even if only for a few days. Besides, Diana Lorado is dead and we’ve got everything of hers we need to figure this mystery out.”

  Hawk sighed. “It would be good to see John Daniel.”

  “Yes,” Alex said. “Very good. Now, let’s get to the airport before the cartel puts a bigger target on our backs.”

  CHAPTER 17

  Eastern Oregon

  REAPER HAD SPENT THE previous night digging into the life of Jenny Velasco, Miss Immaculate Nails who sat behind the counter at the Sheepshead Ranch operational headquarters. She was a single mom, never married. Her son, who she had at age 16, was in school at a nearby community college playing football. But based off her social media posts, Miss Immaculate Nails was single but not for a lack of trying. Seductive poses littered her timeline as well as memes complaining about men on dates.

  Reaper peeked at the rearview mirror and the trail of dust behind him as he rumbled down the road leading to Sheepshead Ranch. After about a quarter of a mile, he stopped and checked the reception on the bug he’d planted on Jenny’s phone. The listening device was still operational and in range.

  Reaper adjusted the volume on his ear bud. Jenny was droning on about the previous night’s episode of The Bachelor with her officemate. While the conversation wasn’t interesting, it helped Reaper figure out the best way to approach her. He gl
anced at the red rose on his passenger seat. He’d wondered if it was too much, but now that he knew she was a big fan of The Bachelor, it was the perfect touch.

  Downshifting into drive, he resumed his trek to the headquarters. When he parked, Wisdom Giver was in the same chair he’d been in the previous day and was whittling with a pen knife.

  “I knew you’d be back,” Wisdom Giver said with a smile. “To find yourself, you must travel every road twice.”

  Reaper nodded and forced a smile. “Good to see you, too.”

  He tugged on the door and resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the fortune cookie wisdom from the Native American.

  Jenny furrowed her brow and cocked her head to one side when she looked up and locked eyes with Reaper. “Just can’t stay away, can you, Ron?”

  Reaper held his hands out and shrugged. “I promise I’m not stalking you.”

  Jenny clasped her hands together and smiled. “I’ve never had a stalker before. Maybe I’d like it.”

  “Trust me when I say this, but you wouldn’t.”

  “Is that coming from the voice of wisdom?” she asked.

  Reaper nodded as he placed the rose on the counter. “Stalkers aren’t in love with you as much as they’re in love with the idea of you. They don’t really know you.”

  “Oooh,” she said, drawing back. “That’s deep. Have you been talking with Chief Running Man out there?”

  “Well, I have been the target of some of his truth bombs, some that have directly hit home.”

  “And others have missed their mark, right?” she asked with a smile.

  “If you’re right more often than not, people start to believe you,” he said. “Unless you’re the weather man, of course. Then, nobody ever believes you because you’re always wrong.”

  “Now, that’s a truth bomb.”

  Reaper smiled and nodded at the flower. “Go ahead,” he said. “That’s for you.”

  “It’s been a long time since someone brought me flowers at work,” she said as she picked it up and drew it to her nose. She took a long whiff and grinned.

  “I hope it makes your day,” Reaper said.

  “Well, I think I know what’ll make your day,” she said.

  “And what’s that?”

  “I spoke with Travis Taylor yesterday,” she said.

  “And?”

  “Well, you can head back to Lincoln knowing that Travis isn’t interested in the inheritance.”

  Reaper scowled. “That’s not how it works.”

  “What do you mean? He doesn’t want it.”

  “Even if he doesn’t want it, I have to get him to tell me that himself. It’s the law.”

  “And if you can’t find him, what happens to that money?”

  “It remains in a fund, untouchable by anyone until he decides to make everything official.”

  Her eyes widened. “Could he sign it over to someone?”

  “If he gave you the power of attorney? Sure. But that needs to be notarized. Just so happens that I’m also a notary.”

  “Just take me to him and we’ll make it happen.”

  She chuckled and shook her head. “Convincing Travis to donate an inherited fortune to me is probably easier than talking Mr. Gunther into giving me a raise.”

  Reaper scrunched his nose and nodded. “Just call him and let me talk to him.”

  “I—I can’t do that. I promised.”

  “Well, maybe you could just call him again—and I could watch,” he said with a wink.

  “But that’d kind of be the same thing as telling you his number.”

  Reaper leaned forward on the counter and talked in a hushed tone. “Miss Velasco, I’m a lawyer and I can assure that it’s not the same thing.”

  He reached into his pocket and glanced around the room before producing an envelope and placing it on the counter.

  “What’s that?” she asked.

  “See for yourself,” Reaper said.

  Jenny looked inside and her jaw dropped. She covered it with her free hand and then looked up at Reaper. “How much is in here?”

  “Spread out over twelve months, it’s much larger than any raise Mr. Gunther will give you, that much you can be assured of.”

  “Well, I guess it wouldn’t hurt, if it’s not illegal or anything.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  Jenny started to dial a number when Reaper’s phone rang.

  “Do you need to get that?” she asked.

  He glanced at the number displayed on his phone. “Nah, it’s nobody important.”

  “That’s not true. Everybody’s important. Go ahead. Take your call. I’ll wait.”

  Reaper stepped outside and tapped his screen, accepting the call.

  “Yeah,” he said.

  It was Kayla.

  She skipped the pleasantries. “So you had time to stop by and give Charlie a gift but not send me a check for this month’s alimony?”

  Reaper grunted. “You haven’t received it yet.”

  “If I don’t have to talk to you, I consider it a good day. So, there’s only one reason I would call you and ask about this.”

  “Good to hear from you too, Kayla.”

  “This isn’t a game, Doug,” she said with a growl. “You’re abdicating not only your paternal duties, but also your court mandated ones. Now, I suggest you authorize an automatic transfer right now or I’ll make a call to the court. I don’t think you want them digging around in your finances again.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “Honest mistake.”

  “Maybe, but it proves that Charlie just isn’t important to you. And I think it’s high time we made the break official.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m going to hang up and call my lawyer to talk to him about officially cutting off any and all visitation rights.”

  “Oh, come on, Kayla. That’s just—”

  “What? Ridiculous? Absurd? Over the top? What do you care anyway? For a tough guy, you are one big coward when it comes to owning up to your mistakes to your son. All you do is run and hide.”

  “Fine. I’m sending the money now,” Reaper said as he initiated the transfer through an app on his phone.

  “Even if I get the money today, don’t think we’re done talking about this,” she said. “Because we will revisit this very soon.”

  “Good-bye, Kayla.”

  He ended the call and finished completing the transfer. He buried his head in his hands and groaned. Then he slammed his fist onto the steering wheel and let out a string of curse words.

  After he got out and headed back toward the office, Wisdom Giver stopped him and held up the piece of wood he’d been working on.

  “For you, my friend,” the old man said.

  Reaper took the whittled wood and inspected it. The Wisdom Giver had sculpted the head of a wolf, showing all of his teeth in what appeared to be a full-throated growl.

  “Interesting,” Reaper said. “Thank you.”

  “That’s you,” Wisdom Giver said.

  “Is this a good thing or a bad thing?”

  “That’s not for me to determine, Lone Wolf.”

  Reaper pocketed the carving and re-entered the office. Jenny smiled as he entered. He noticed that she’d re-applied her lipstick since he last saw her.

  “Everything all right?” she asked.

  “Just peachy,” Reaper said. “Now, where were we?”

  She fingered him to come closer. As he got nearer, she leaned across the counter and drew closer to him. He could smell her flowery perfume, something he hadn’t noticed a few minutes earlier.

  “We were right here,” she said, holding out her phone. She dialed Travis Taylor’s number so Reaper could see it. He copied the digits into his phone and waited for her conversation.

  It went similar to the day before with the exception of her telling Taylor that even if he didn’t want the money, he needed to make it official.

  “You can just give me power of at
torney, if you like,” she said.

  “Just leave it alone, Jenny,” Taylor said. “If any lawyer worth his weight in salt needs to find me, he can do it on his own. Understand? Just don’t tell him anything.”

  “Of course not. Have a great day.”

  She hung up and looked at Reaper.

  “Thanks,” he said.

  “Please wait a while before you call him. I don’t want him to suspect it’s me.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” Reaper said before winking at her and turning to leave.

  “Good luck,” she said.

  Reaper walked by the Wisdom Giver, who was already at work on another piece of wood.

  “Did you find what you were looking for?” the old man asked.

  “Not really.”

  “What you seek is closer than you think,” Wisdom Giver said before staring off into the distance at a man driving a truck toward them.

  Reaper wasn’t sure what to make of the old man’s comment but decided not to leave just yet. He drove down Sheepshead Ranch Road toward the highway before stopping and parking behind a small shed. He climbed out and entered the structure. The wood was rotting and the tin roof had rusted out years ago. But he could get a clear view of the ranch headquarters through a missing slat.

  He pulled out his surveillance binoculars and watched. Reaper followed the man in the truck Wisdom Giver had glanced at. The man had worked busily around the headquarters until dusk. All the ranch hands and office workers vacated the premises at dusk fell, except for the man in the truck. Then after nightfall, a truck rumbled across the hills toward the man.

  Reaper considered that maybe it was Travis Taylor and decided to take a closer look.

  CHAPTER 18

  Los Angeles

  MORGAN MAY DIDN’T WAIT for Dr. Z to get to his office before she was waiting outside with a cup of hot chocolate from Starbucks. She swirled it around, allowing the aroma to escape in the hallway. He skidded to a stop on his skateboard and cocked his head.

  “What is it this time, Director?” Dr. Z asked.

  She feigned surprise. “What do you mean? Can’t I surprise my employees in the morning just because?”

  “You can,” he said with a wide grin, “but you never have before. So, this would be a first.”